Monday, December 14th, 1987

Olivia was exhausted.

She was only a page away from meeting the length requirement on her social psychology final, but she knew that, realistically, it would take another three pages for her to finish up the essay to her satisfaction. Her eyes burned as she read over the text again, trying to find the best quote to support her argument, but her brain was fried and her focus was fleeting. Her sleep schedule, never one to write home about, was wrecked as of late and it had taken most of her mental acumen with it.

Thoughts came to her in jumbled messes that took twice as long to make sense of as they used to. To focus required all of her mental energy and she was beginning to wonder if the deadline of tomorrow afternoon, which seemed so easy to reach a week ago, was possible to meet.

She glanced over at the clock beside the TV. It blinked 9:41 PM at her in bold, red numbers. Sighing, Olivia pushed the book she was reading away and rubbed her eyes. She only had a few minutes before she had to stop. With a deep breath, she fell back into the couch, relaxing into it and letting the cushions swallow her up. She'd hated this sofa when Brent had first moved it into the apartment. The way it practically ate you alive as soon as you put a single finger on it had been particularly annoying when she was doing gymnastics just to get out of hardback chairs. Now, when she was bone tired, she didn't mind feeling cocooned in its warmth.

Sleep was just within her reach when Olivia heard the first whimper from the bassinet beside her. Without having to look she knew it must have been 10 PM.

Josie was nothing if not punctual when it came to eating.

Standing up, Liv started shushing as she picked the infant out of the cradle that had taken three people and two hours to put together one afternoon the week before classes had started. Her sorority sisters, caring but still uneasy around their pregnant classmate, had shown up at her new apartment with bags from Sears and a satisfied look on their faces claiming they would have a whole nursery set up in minutes. By the time they'd left, those looks were gone and all of them had a new appreciation for furniture assembly.

"Is someone hungry, hm?" Settling back on the sofa, she grabbed a pillow and settled Josephine against it on her lap, the baby's arms waving in the air while she let out excited grunts. At twelve weeks old Josie was a new mother's dream, something Olivia thanked a God she didn't believe in for every day. Nothing about this situation, besides (mostly) Josie herself, had been easy so far.

From the moment she'd realized she was pregnant Olivia had been a mess of nerves and worries. She'd been a doe-eyed freshman, full of delusions of grandeur and a belief that because she was away from New York City, away from her mother, her life would become something not just tolerable, but fantastic.

Her days were full of classes, studying, greek life parties, and feeling like she was on easy street. She'd had a few dates with different guys, nothing serious, but kept coming back to Brent Ward. A junior, Brent was the sort of good guy that was hard to find in the frat house. He wasn't drop-dead gorgeous, but he had a kindness that she couldn't bring herself to avoid. He'd gone on and on about books and poetry, able to lapse into some random monologue from an obscure English play and Olivia had thought that this was the type of boy that her mother couldn't possibly hate… that she wouldn't force her to push him away like she had Burton.

But easy was never a word she should use to describe her life. When Olivia did, it was almost like the universe took it as a challenge.

When her period hadn't come for the second month in a row a sense of dread had come over her. How could this be happening to her when she was so careful?

Without a second thought, she'd gone to schedule an appointment at the clinic in Albany, but they were booked for a week and the days she spent waiting had left her unsure with her decision. Regret was an awful thing to live with, her mother always told her, and most of the time Olivia couldn't help but think Serena was talking about her regret at having and raising her after she was conceived in such a terrible way. Sitting in her dorm room, terrified and wondering how she was supposed to make such a decision at 19, she found herself reaching for the hard, pink phone her roommate Sarah had covered with Lisa Frank stickers one night after a few too many beers. Looking at the time, she decided to dial her mother's office phone at Hudson. It was mid-afternoon and typically Serena held it together until 5 on a weeknight.

The conversation went as expected at first. Her mother, probably deep in some thesis proposal when the phone rang, seemed genuinely surprised at Olivia's call. For months now they'd been communicating in forced conversations (at Serena's insistence). Olivia had only left campus to go back to the city for Christmas after her mother had threatened to stop sending her money. No one would call Serena the world's greatest mother by any stretch of the definition, and her mother wasn't deluded enough to even put herself into contention, but she was observant and cared enough about her daughter to know a random call on a Tuesday was anything but.

"Olivia, why are you calling me?" Her mouth dried up at her mother's question, the words she had wanted to say dying on her tongue. She wasn't looking for her mother's absolution on her decision or even her advice. She didn't even want to admit to her what was going on and how careless she'd been.

All she wanted to know was why.

"Why didn't you get an abortion?"

Silence.

"Olivia, I don't think-"

"Just… just tell me, ok?" There must have been something in Olivia's voice that spoke to Serena, some sort of tell that made her realize there was more to this question than just a need to understand why she was born.

"I couldn't legally get one. The only options were back-alley providers where there was just as good of a chance I'd end up dead or even more scared for life. I wasn't willing to risk that."

"But you would've if you could've, right?"

"I… Olivia, I can't tell you what I would have done in a situation that never existed." She could hear her mother's growing frustration. For all her love of fiction, Serena was never one to entertain fantasies or make-believe scenarios. There was no point, she'd always say, why dream about something that would never happen and give yourself false hope?

"You still could have given me up for adoption, though, but you didn't." A sigh came over the phone and Olivia could hear the squeaking of her mother's office chair. She could picture Serena leaning back with a hand over her eyes, wishing that she still kept a bottle of vodka in her office.

"No, Olivia, I obviously didn't. What is this all about?"

"Why? Why did you keep me if you hate me so much?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't hate you, Olivia?" There was the anger that Olivia was so used to, the fire that came out when Serena was made to feel like she was being cornered. "You're my daughter, no one else's, and I love you because of all that… I didn't put you up for adoption because no matter what happened to bring you here, you were mine and no one can love you like I do."

Looking down at Josie nursing at her breast, a tiny hand clutching and unclutching the fabric of Olivia's bunched-up Sleeping Beauty tee, she understood the possessive Serena spoke of. When she had been pregnant, she'd wondered, often, what choosing to become a mother this young and because of a drunken decision on New Year's Eve would do to her life… how much harder she made it. But on the day Josephine was born, red and wet and crying like being alive was the worst thing to ever happen to her, Olivia hadn't felt regret or fear.

She had felt, for the first time in her entire life, wholly loved by and completely in love with her child. Josie was the one person that, for the rest of Olivia's life, would have a vice grip on her heart. For so long her plans had all revolved around one thing: her mother's rape. Becoming a cop and finding the man who left a lifetime of suffering in his wake had defined the path she set for herself.

But a life built around getting vengeance was not a life that would lead to happiness and fulfillment for her daughter. If Olivia learned nothing else growing up it was that a parent's outlook on life would define their child's and she vowed that Josephine would not come to model the same sadness and trauma two generations of Benson women had known only too well.

The keys turning in the lock drew her out of her reverie and as she was switching Josie over to her left side, Brent entered the apartment. He was humming "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake and had the flushed cheeks of someone who had had a few beers. Clearly, he'd had a good dinner with his frat brothers. Seeing Olivia and Josie on the couch, he smiled and gestured a to-go bag towards Liv.

"Brought you some chicken wings and a salad and-umm-" He pulled the bag to his face and opened it up, taking out a wrapped baked good, "the best damn brownie in all of New York state, apparently." Brent looked so proud of himself that Olivia didn't have the heart to tell him the sound of chicken wings made her stomach turn and a salad sounded about as thrilling as plain white bread. "Which, based on the way your eyes just lit up is probably the only thing I just mentioned you want."

"No, Brent, I'll eat-"

"Liv, it's ok, honestly, I forgot to get you something when I ordered and this was the quickest thing they could bring out… pretty sure it was someone else's order who puked and got kicked out after his 7th beer." He talked as he went into the kitchen, putting the food away and getting something out of the freezer. "Honestly, it's on me for not being thoughtful enough, but, you know… the beer, the guys…" He trailed off and she heard the clattering of a spoon in a bowl. If he was doing what she thought he was doing and making her a sundae, she might profess her undying love to him right there.

Because neither of them has said it.

Yet.

Or at least maybe yet.

She didn't really know if they ever would and it was confusing, to say the least.

As Josie signaled she was done, Brent walked out of the kitchen, a burp rag on his shoulder and a bowl with ice cream peaking out in his hand.

"Switch?" He asked her, a noticeable excitement spreading across his face as he laid eyes on his daughter. It was those looks that made the fact she wasn't in love with him bearable. She could last with a lifetime of just really liking someone if it meant that Josephine had the father and mother that Olivia had always wished she'd had.

They were a family, even if they were a little too young and really unsure. They had chosen to make this work months ago and even if Serena had spent hours screaming and berating her for her decision, she was going to see this through.

Watching Brent walk around the room, patting Josie's back and whispering some story to her, Olivia couldn't help but think that everything, good and bad, was going to be worth it.

This idea has been in my head for years in various different iterations. I hope that the crazy outcomes and ideas I have for this play out and you all enjoy!

This is my first SVU fic, so any and all tips/comments/suggestions are appreciated.

You can find me on tumblr suninhersmile (which is full of story goodies that will keep on growing).